


Like Father, Like Son

by tray_la_la



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-15
Updated: 2010-01-15
Packaged: 2017-10-06 07:21:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tray_la_la/pseuds/tray_la_la
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Al learns following in his father's footsteps isn't so bad after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Father, Like Son

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/the_ass_fest/profile)[**the_ass_fest**](http://community.livejournal.com/the_ass_fest/) for the wonderful [](http://bryoneybrynn.livejournal.com/profile)[**bryoneybrynn**](http://bryoneybrynn.livejournal.com/), who graciously agreed to look over the edits, and whom I'm so happy to have gotten to know better since first receiving this assignment!

Al didn't know how much longer he could keep his dinner down as he sat listening to James regale the family with tales of his latest fling. It was only marginally less unappetising than Lily's effusive gushing over her boyfriend, John. Her newest true love.

The two of them seemed engaged in some sort of epic battle to outdate one another, and no segment of the Hogwarts population appeared safe from the combined threat of Lily and James Potter.

Unluckily for Al, the Potter family had become their unwitting score keepers, and these regular reports on his siblings' love lives were an all too common occurrence.

Spearing his last piece of broccoli with a bit more force than necessary, Al cast his eyes around the dinner table to find his father looking equally sullen. Their eyes met briefly and Harry shot him a wry smile, understanding flickering between them.

His mother must have noticed the shared look because a moment later she cleared her throat loudly, cutting short Lily's rambling description of John's exceptional Potions skills.

"So dear, have you had the chance to get out at all lately?"

Harry gave Al another pointed look before meeting his ex-wife's probing gaze across the dinner table. Al could tell he was barely winning the struggle not to roll his eyes.

It really was laughable how unsubtle his mother could be sometimes. But like Uncle George always said, there's just nothing subtle about a Weasley.

"You know I haven't, Gin, or I would've mentioned it one of the other thousand or so times you've asked me in the past three months."

Next to her, Oliver tried and failed to swallow a snicker, earning him one of Ginny's patented death glares. Al smiled. Oliver was good for his mum. Good natured and easy going, but self-assured enough to stand up to her when needed.

Al had always been the observant type, and he'd long ago noticed that his mother could be a bit…dramatic. It was best not to indulge her.

At least, that's what Uncle Ron was always saying, muttering something about "bloody youngest child syndrome." Glancing quickly over at Lily, Al thought he understood that well enough.

"Oh, go on and be frustrated with me all you want, Harry, but you haven't been out with anybody since you and Ethan broke up. Really, three months is far too long without at least going out for a-"

"Three months!" James scoffed, interrupting his mother and receiving his own death glare in return. Unlike Oliver, however, James had long ago built up immunity to anything Ginny could dish out. "That's nothing. Al hasn't gotten any since that Ravenclaw wanker ditched him for the Head Boy last spring."

Al narrowed his eyes at his older brother. This was old news, of course, but James never missed an opportunity to remind everyone of the sad state of Al's love life. This was his absolute favourite of Al's countless romantic humiliations.

Al sat up straight in his chair and tried hard to school his expression into one of disinterested neutrality. He was over Eddie, really, but it still burned that he'd left him for that absolute twat David Catwaller.

David was everything Al wasn't, and everything Al thought the son of Harry Potter probably should be: popular, confident, Quidditch captain, a Gryffindor. He was Head Boy to boot, so Al couldn't even accuse him of being unintelligent.

That was a particularly sore spot. What good was it being a Ravenclaw if you couldn't feel a smug sense of intellectual superiority over others?

Al's face slipped into a scowl before he could stop himself and he winced as James' face lit up in victory. Al was about to tell James off before Lily smoothly cut in, flicking her long hair behind her shoulder in a practiced gesture Al found most obnoxious.

"If you'd like, Al," she said, her voice affecting that honeyed tone that always warranted extreme caution, "I could set you up with one of my Slytherins. I know you _pretend_ you've got some silly little rule against dating them, but I've seen the way you check out Scorpius Malfoy's arse in the Great Hall when you think no one's looking."

Al felt his cheeks rapidly flush with heat and he refused to meet anyone's eye, instead folding and refolding the napkin in his lap with feigned concentration.

He could already feel James gloating from all the way across the table, mentally revising his list of things to torment Al about to make room for this latest mortification.

Truthfully though, Al was surprised he'd managed to keep it a secret for so long. After all, he'd fancied Scorpius Malfoy for years now. Ever since that time in fourth year when he'd stumbled upon the other boy engaged in some kind of callisthenics routine on the Quidditch pitch.

Al had watched Scorpius bend and stretch and reach until the pressure in his groin became so intense he'd had to run straight into the Ravenclaw changing rooms to relieve himself.

Dating Eddie hadn't even freed him from his crush. It had only lessened the impact from near suffocating to mostly manageable.

Al had never told a soul though, not even Rose. Better to be safe than sorry when dealing with the Potter-Weasley clan. Of course, he should have guessed that his sister would be the first to figure it out. Fucking Slytherins.

A tense silence settled over the dinner table. James was looking at Al with a predatory gleam in his eye, just waiting for the perfect moment to unleash his brand new arsenal of insults. Al kept his head down and continued to study his napkin, all too aware of James' growing excitement and the embarrassingly worried looks of his parents.

Lily was still too busy gloating over being the first to discover Al's secret to notice the mounting discomfort. Oliver, on the other hand, looked like he'd just swallowed a lemon, likely unable to reconcile the idea of a Malfoy being the object of anyone's affection, let alone a Potter's.

Thankfully, Al's father broke the painful silence, not wanting to prolong his son's embarrassment. After all, he was something of an expert when it came to the special brand of misery only a Malfoy could inflict.

"Thank you for, er, wanting to help, Lily. I think Al can manage just fine on his own, though. As can I," he finished quickly, noticing Ginny had opened her mouth to say something.

Her jaw snapped shut with an audible click and Oliver patted her hand consolingly, his lips pressed tightly together to prevent the escape of another untimely snicker.

"Well," Ginny sniffed, rising from her chair, "I think we'll be going now."

She and Oliver kissed each of the children good-bye and made their way to the Floo, Harry trailing in their wake. Oliver and Harry exchanged handshakes and pats on the back before Harry moved to face his ex-wife. Ginny just sighed and shook her head fondly at him before pulling him into a quick hug. She never could manage to stay mad at him. At least, not since the divorce.

Once the flames from the Floo died down, Harry made his way back through the house he and Ginny had once shared, happy to find his children still seated at the kitchen table. He couldn't help but smile at the picture they made.

Lily was leaning against Al, her head thrown back in laughter and her bright red hair dancing wildly around her shaking shoulders.

Her good humour seemed to be having little effect on Al though. He was glaring steadily across the table at his older brother, arms crossed tightly against his chest in an effort to look menacing. The effect was somewhat ruined by the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

James, as usual, was the one providing the entertainment. He seemed to be impersonating a rather shrill teenage girl. If Harry knew his son at all, the object of his ridicule was most likely _last_ week's one true love.

It was times like these when Harry felt closest to his kids, closest to knowing who they really were, who they were becoming. He cherished the time they spent with him, and he was thrilled they'd be staying at Grimmauld Place for the entire winter holiday.

Despite how hard it was to watch them grow up, he loved that he could now be their father _and_ their friend. At least, when they let him.

Harry settled back down at the table and watched his eldest son's performance with amusement, occasionally laughing alongside Lily and Al. Although, he eventually cut James off when his theatrics threatened to turn adult-rated. There were some things a father just didn't need to know.

"So," he said, steering the conversation to safer ground, "I hope the three of you remember the very important event I told you about before you left for school in September." He looked expectantly at his children, an excited smile playing across his face.

"Dad," Lily said, rolling her eyes, "how could we forget? The _Prophet_'s going to be doing a full spread in the Society Section."

The three men gave her identical looks of incredulity.

"What?" she huffed. "Just because Dad hates publicity doesn't mean we all do. I got a brand new Muggle ball gown and I _will_ be getting my picture in the paper. I already told my friends."

"Lily," Al said slowly, as though explaining something to a small child, "Dad doesn't get _publicity_. He gets _stalked_."

"Yes, well, being Head Auror's not all it's cracked up to be," Harry joked, embarrassed but pleased by his son's defence.

"Hail to the Saviour!" James shouted in mock solemnity, laughing when Harry picked a stray string bean up off the table and threw it at him.

"Anyway," Harry said, shooting James a mock glare, "it's the first major fundraising event for the orphanage, so it'll be quite formal." He looked distinctly uncomfortable at the reminder, but valiantly pressed on. "A lot of potential donors will be there, and it's for a great cause, after all."

The three kids nodded. They knew their father had been working for years to get the orphanage up and running. He'd been involved with charitable organisations all their lives, but the orphanage was extremely close to his heart. James, Al and Lily had spent the previous summer volunteering there, and it had become important to each of them as well.

"Plus, there will be a few other kids from Hogwarts there too. That should make it a little more fun."

Lily gave Al a sly sideways glance. "Dad, hasn't Mr Malfoy been working with you to organise the fundraiser?"

Al's ears perked up at the name and he absently noted the deep blush creeping up his father's neck as he awaited a response. "Erm, yes, that's right. Mr Malfoy's a philanthropist. His contributions have been invaluable to the orphanage, and he's brought in a lot of out biggest donors."

"So, Scorpius will be at the event?" Lily pressed.

Harry exhaled, looking oddly relieved. "Yes, Scorpius will be attending as well."

All eyes turned to Al, who realised a moment too late that he had inched all the way to the edge of his seat. He immediately turned a violent shade of red and slumped down in his chair until he was nearly under the table.

Lily laughed. "Oh, stop being such a drama queen, Al."

"What are you so worried about, anyway?" James piped up. "Everyone knows Scorpius Malfoy is a huge poof. Just, you know, make fun of his hair or something and then brag about Quidditch."

"You are so painfully heterosexual, James," Al said, shaking his head in disgust.

James grinned. "Nothing painful about it," he replied, launching Lily into a fit of giggles. Even Al gave a reluctant chuckle.

"I would beg to disagree," Harry smirked, earning a chorus of "Ewwws!" from his three children. "Okay, okay," he laughed. "Just don't forget the benefit is Friday."

The conversation quickly moved on to Quidditch scores and Transfiguration homework, but Al couldn't quite shake the ball of nervous anticipation that had settled in the pit of his stomach.

&lt;&gt;&lt;&gt;&lt;&gt;

Al was still awake several hours after the Potters had retreated to their separate rooms for the night. He stared unseeingly at the bare expanse of his bedroom ceiling, thinking about his mother and Ethan, the few guys his father had brought around for dinner, only to never be seen again, and of course, Eddie—all the failed relationships between he and his father.

They'd always had a special relationship, him and his dad, different somehow from the one his father shared with James and Lily. Al thought his dad probably saw in him the person he might've been, had circumstances been different.

Al wasn't sure if that was depressing or not, given the state of his own life.

Sure, he'd had his share of furtive snogs and clumsy wanks in broom closets and empty classrooms. And during the four months he'd spent with Eddie he'd discovered the joys of oral sex and a number of other things that made him very, _very_ glad to be a gay man. But he hadn't found anyone since, and he was convinced he'd end up the first gay kid to ever make it all the way through boarding school with his virginity still in tact.

That sobering thought catapulted Al back to the present and he cast a weary eye at the early morning light streaming in through his window. Sighing, he burrowed deeper under his quilt and tried not to feel guilty over the fact that he might not want to be just like his father after all.

&lt;&gt;&lt;&gt;&lt;&gt;

Al was unreasonably nervous on the morning of the fundraiser. Sure, the boy he'd had a crush on for over two years would be there in all his blond glory, but they might not even run into each other.

Even if they did, it wasn't like he and Scorpius were friends. He'd barely acknowledged Al's existence in six years of schooling together.

Al's father was also more jittery than usual. He knocked over the jug of pumpkin juice at least three times during breakfast and he accidentally tied a sausage to the leg of the family owl instead of a note to Aunt Hermione.

Al might've been suspicious had he not been so wrapped up in his own increasing nausea.

Unfortunately, the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach only worsened as the time of the event drew nearer. He was fairly confident his skin had turned a faint green colour by the time the four Potters arrived at the already bustling hall in which the fundraiser was being held.

Al hung back with his father as his two more outgoing siblings led the way into the ballroom.

James strutted in first, casting a speculative eye over the crowd. Al had learned over breakfast that he'd broken things off with his latest girlfriend the night before, hoping to "bag an older bird" at the benefit, as he'd so delicately put it.

Lily sashayed in after him, looking almost regal in her opulent Muggle gown. She, too, took a quick look around before immediately setting off towards the corner of the room where the photographers were clearly stationed.

Al rolled his eyes and turned to share an amused look with James, only to find him already at the centre of a nearby group of witches, giggling and fawning over something witty he must've said.

How utterly predictable. Al glanced back at his father, who seemed to have lost his nerve a few paces back and was just standing there like a deer in headlights.

"You alright, Dad?" Al asked, moving to his side. Harry nodded, straightening the collar of his dress robes and visibly shaking himself from his daze.

"Fine," he smiled unconvincingly. "Let's just get this over with."

Al silently agreed, letting his eyes survey the room for the first time. All clear.

He'd devised a plan on the walk from the Portkey location. He'd just find his seat as soon as possible and make himself inconspicuous until dinner was served. Then, he'd feign illness and Apparate home early.

As long as his father didn't put up too much of a protest, it should work out perfectly. Glancing over at Harry, who was still standing stiff as a board and had now broken out into a light sweat, Al thought he should be just fine.

Giving his father what he hoped was a supportive pat on the back, Al left in search of his seat.

Al found the little place card with his name on it at the head table and plopped himself down with relief. The head table was the farthest from the main part of the ballroom, where the majority of guests were mingling, and it would definitely provide him a temporary respite.

Just as soon as he'd loosened his tie and allowed himself to slouch slightly in his seat, he felt someone's presence behind him.

Turning his head slowly, his eyes landed on the very last person he'd expected to see. Scorpius Malfoy. Smiling. At him.

Scorpius Malfoy was smiling at him.

Al had planned to avoid Scorpius out of fear he might make a complete fool of himself if they actually came face-to-face. Even more alarming, he might do so in front of James and Lily.

Worse still, he worried Scorpius wouldn't even recognise him. Or that he'd make it clear to everyone present that Al was beneath him.

_Never_ did he imagine that Scorpius would approach him willingly.

"So, are you just going to keep staring, or are you going to ask me to sit down?"

Horrified, Al realised that not only had he been staring, and for Merlin knows how long, but that his mouth had been hanging open like a stupefied troll.

"Um, yeah, sure. I mean, go ahead. If you want." Al mentally cursed his sudden incoherence. Some Ravenclaw he was.

Scorpius just smiled and pulled out the chair next to Al's, taking a seat and shuffling several inches closer.

Al swallowed hard. He was painfully aware that this was the closest he'd ever been to the other boy. It was bad enough he had to sit in front of him in Potions, where he swore he could feel Scorpius' every move behind him, but now he could _see_ him. _Really_ see him.

The flawless, pale skin. The wide, grey-blue eyes. The long, silken, white-blond hair.

Scorpius coughed.

_Oh shit._

Al quickly looked away. He'd just been caught staring. Again. Merlin, he was _such_ an idiot. He could feel a brilliant blush ignite across his cheeks, but he bravely looked back up, determined to see whether Scorpius was laughing at him.

Instead, he found Scorpius watching him intently, his mouth quirked up in a small smile totally devoid of malice.

Warmth flooded Al, loosening the pit of nerves that had been rolling around in his stomach since breakfast.

Merlin, he was already hard.

Surely, this could only end badly, like that time during fourth year when he'd caught Scorpius doing those damned callisthenics. Thankfully, the loos were close by if he needed to make a run for it.

One more smile and he just might.

"So, Al, you must be pretty proud of your father. The orphanage has already been a tremendous success."

_He knows my name!_, Al thought excitedly, before mentally scolding himself. _Of course he knows your name, you moron,_ everyone _knows your name._

"Yeah, I am. It really means a lot to him," Al replied, proud of how steady his voice sounded to his own ears. "To me too," he added shyly, feeling his blush return in full force.

Scorpius smiled. "That's right. Didn't you volunteer there last summer?"

"Yeah," Al said, completely taken aback that Scorpius Malfoy would have any idea how he spent his summers. _It must've been in the_ Prophet, Al told himself before he could get overexcited again.

"I'd love to help out this summer. My father's become really involved since he and your dad have been working so closely on the fundraiser."

Al just nodded dumbly, unable to wrap his mind around the prospect of working alongside Scorpius Malfoy for an entire summer.

A small chuckle pulled him from his stupor and he looked at Scorpius questioningly.

"It's nothing," he said, in answer to the unspoken question. "You're just really cute."

Al felt his entirely body flush and he quickly looked away, unaccountably embarrassed.

"Especially when you blush," Scorpius said teasingly, running the back of his hand across Al's heated cheek.

Al glanced back up again, too shocked to be embarrassed now. What the hell was going on? Did Scorpius Malfoy just touch him? Did he honestly think Al was cute? Was it possible he thought Al was cute in an I-want-to-touch-you kind of a way?

Al's head was spinning. And with all the blood rushing to his cheeks, he thought it was entirely possible he might pass out on the spot.

He contemplated dashing to the loo to splash some water on his face, but he quickly calculated that the probability of his actually fainting wasn't great enough to risk missing out on Scorpius touching him again. Even if it was just his cheek.

In fact, he might touch him more if he _did_ pass out.

Wishing he could get his hands on one of Uncle George's Fainting Fancies, Al noticed Scorpius gazing at him with that same intensity as before, his hand still lingering near Al's face.

"I- I think you're cute too. Gorgeous, actually," Al stammered, instantly mortified by his own frankness. Merlin, this blood away from the head business was seriously bad news.

Just when he'd thought he couldn't possibly blush any more, he felt his cheeks heat up a few degrees higher. Dinner could now reasonably be prepared on his face.

Scorpius let out another quiet laugh, moving his chair even closer and placing his hand on Al's knee.

Al was so focused on how the heat from Scorpius' hand seared his skin through his robes and trousers he didn't realise that the other boy had moved again until he felt hot breath tickle his ear.

"Good," Scorpius whispered.

Al's mouth went dry. It was all too much. Scorpius' hand on his knee, his warm breath against his cheek, their faces so close he could make out every last blond eyelash.

"I, uh, need to go to the bathroom," Al spluttered, stumbling a bit as he hastily stood up from the table. He missed Scorpius' stunned expression as he quickly turned away and made a beeline straight for the loo.

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him, Al locked himself in one of the stalls and slumped heavily against the wall.

Breathing hard, he tried to gather his thoughts. Scorpius Malfoy thought he was cute. He'd told Scorpius Malfoy he thought he was gorgeous. Then Scorpius Malfoy touched his leg.

And now he was locked in the men's room.

Al was starting to think that had been a bad move. But just as he was plotting how to rejoin Scorpius at the table and make a suave recovery from running away like the shy virgin he was, he heard the bathroom door open.

Cursing under his breath, Al silently prayed that whoever it was would be quick and allow him to make his escape sooner rather than later. Who knows how Scorpius had interpreted his hasty exit; he might not even be there when he got back.

"I really can't thank you enough, Draco. I couldn't have done this without you."

Al froze. That was definitely his father's voice projecting loudly in the mostly empty bathroom.

"What can I tell you, Potter, I've got a heart of gold," his companion drawled, the teasing tone belying his sarcastic words.

"I know. It just took me a while to see it." His father sounded unusually earnest, and something else Al couldn't quite make out.

"I've always said you were slow, Potter."

"Draco," his father replied, the pleading note in his voice now unmistakable.

Al was still holding his breath and trying to figure out exactly what was going on when it finally hit him.

Draco.

There was only one Draco he knew of. And that meant that on the side of the bathroom stall he was currently trapped inside was his father and none other than Draco Malfoy, engaged in some sort of cryptic conversation that Al didn't even want to imagine the implications of.

"Harry." Mr Malfoy sounded cool and reserved. But even Al could make out the faint traces of hope and anxiety that crept into his words.

"I- These past few months… And you've just…" his father let out a frustrated noise, one Al often heard him make whenever he was working on a particularly tough Auror case. "_Fuck_. Why does this have to be so bloody difficult!"

Al couldn't help but smile in spite of the surreal circumstances. His dad always talked to himself when he was feeling especially frustrated or upset, no matter who he was in front of.

James liked to joke it was a sign his father had finally cracked, but Al thought it humanised him. There was something comforting about the fact that even the great Harry Potter got out of sorts every once and a while.

"Potter," Mr Malfoy cut in. "Just shut up and kiss me."

Al had suspected it was coming, but he wasn't at all prepared for the savage noise he heard ripped from his father's throat as he lunged at Mr Malfoy.

Al could hear the frantic shuffling of feet and the rustling of clothing as his father pinned Mr Malfoy up against the sinks. The nausea from earlier in the day returned tenfold as he heard the two men exchange sloppy, desperate kisses, interspersed with occasional grunts and moans.

Al couldn't believe it. Ten minutes ago, he'd had Scorpius Malfoy's hand on his leg. Now, he was stuck in the loo listening to his father snog Scorpius' dad.

He wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry at the absurdity of it all. _Of course_ his dad would want to date the father of Al's longtime crush. Unlike Al, however, his father had managed to do something about it.

Without warning, the door of the bathroom stall a few down from Al's slammed shut, muffling the moans that were now coming louder and with increased frequency.

Oh _god_.

Al needed to get out of there. _Now_.

After waiting another moment to be absolutely sure that his father and Mr. Malfoy were most definitely hidden inside a stall, Al unlocked his own and slipped out as quietly as possible. Though, from the sound of ripping fabric and belt buckles hitting the bathroom floor, it appeared they were too engrossed in one another to notice a heard of Hippogriffs, let alone Al.

Al stumbled out of the bathroom in a fog. Sometimes, his life was just too bizarre.

Just as he was debating whether or not to stop lamenting his father's success and go back to take notes, he felt someone seize the back of his robes before he was hurled bodily into a small alcove off the hallway that led to the bathrooms.

Before he could regain his bearings, he was thrown up against the wall and his mouth was crushed in a bruising kiss.

Al opened his eyes and was met with nothing but pale skin and bright blond hair. Since Mr Malfoy was still in the bathroom with his father, that could only mean one thing.

Scorpius Malfoy was snogging him. He was snogging Scorpius Malfoy.

Al was so wrapped up in his shock and delight that he failed to notice he wasn't kissing Scorpius back until the other boy pulled away. Scorpius was panting hard, his fists clenched in the front of Al's robes as he pressed him up against the wall, the lower halves of their bodies not quite meeting.

"I know you're shy," Scorpius managed once his breathing had slowed down some, "and trust me, I find it completely irresistible, but _please_, touch me already!"

Al might not have been witty and charming like his older brother, or brave and heroic like his father, but he'd always been good at following instructions.

He wasted no time diving back into the kiss, this time as an equal participant. He twined his arms around Scorpius' neck and grabbed a fistful of soft hair, moaning deeply into the other boy's mouth.

He'd fantasised about this moment for so long, but his dreams didn't even come close to the real thing.

Scorpius took a step closer and Al's skin tingled all over as Scorpius' body completely covered his. He could feel Scorpius hot and hard against his hip as he rubbed his crotch against the other boy's thigh.

They kept on kissing for what felt like forever. Al lost himself in the pleasure of teeth and lips and tongues, of Scorpius' mouth slick and wet against his own as they continued to rut and grind mindlessly against one another.

Al was just beginning to think he'd like to spend the rest of his life right here with Scorpius when he heard a cough from somewhere over Scorpius' right shoulder.

Perfect.

The two boys slowly pulled apart, pausing for a moment to exchange a look of alarm and regret before turning to face their discoverer.

Naturally, it was their fathers. Al should have guessed.

Despite his encounter in the bathroom, Mr Malfoy looked immaculate. Not a blond hair out of place.

Al's father, on the other hand, looked decidedly more disheveled than before. His hair was even more wild than usual and his dress robes appeared to be on backwards, a fact he'd apparently just realised, as he was currently trying to work his arm free from one of the sleeves.

Al almost laughed. Almost.

He couldn't quite overcome his mortification at the look of approval Mr Malfoy was sharing with his son. Al could feel himself blush all the way to the tip of his toes and he silently prayed no one was looking at him.

A moment later, Al's father gave up the struggle with his robes and turned his full attention to his son.

His dad looked just as embarrassed as he felt, and Al realised that they had both been caught, not just him. The thought made him feel marginally better and he braved a small smile, which his father returned with relief.

Mr Malfoy laughed. "C'mon, Harry. Let's leave our sons to get better acquainted." He took his father's arm and started to steer him back towards the ballroom before pausing to cast an appraising eye over Harry's wardrobe.

"On second thought, maybe we should duck back into the bathroom and straighten out your robes." Harry blushed and nodded, throwing a small wave over his shoulder at Al before he disappeared down the hallway. Mr Malfoy winked at Scorpius and strode off in the same direction.

Al was still staring dumbly at the spot his father had just deserted when Scorpius turned to him with a full-on smirk, pushing him back up against the wall. "Like father like son, eh?"

Al smiled. "Yeah. Something like that."

&lt;&gt;&lt;&gt;&lt;&gt;


End file.
